With You To The End, Sister
by Darkpenn
Summary: When the Battle of Beacon erupts, the Malachite twins find that all they can depend on is each other.


**With You To The End, Sister**

 _When the Battle of Beacon erupts, the Malachite twins find that all they can depend on is each other._

 _[Author's note: This story is a sequel of sorts to the collection_ The Power Within.]

The two of them looked at the sign above the door: Malachite Cafe. Under it was a banner, with the words 'Opening tomorrow'.

"Damn, it's been a lot of work getting this place ready," said Melanie.

"Certainly has, but at least it's ours," said Miltia. "It's going to be tough but at least it beats working as bouncers for Junior."

The two of them had been scrimping and saving for years to start their own business. They had borrowed money from anyone willing to lend it and had spent all their non-bouncer time here, building and painting and polishing and preparing. The place was located on the edge of the trendy district of Vale, the best they had been able to afford. Even with the tournament at Beacon drawing to a close they were hoping there would be enough visitors still around to give them a good start.

"It looks pretty stylish, even if I say so myself," said Miltia.

"Yeah, it's a good thing that one of us has some taste," said Melanie. "Me, I'm better at breaking things."

"Well, let's hope there's no great need for your ... talents," said Miltia.

They hugged each other. Then they locked the door and started for the cramped little apartment they generously called home.

"Huh, looks like there's something going on up at the stadium over at the Academy," said Melanie, pointing.

Then they saw them: Grimm. There were Gryphons and Nevermores circling, some attacking the floating stadium. More beasts were leaping out of airships with White Fang markings, and others were rampaging through the streets. There were sirens going and the sound of guns firing.

"Not good, definitely not good," said Miltia. "But there are plenty of Atlas ships, aren't there? Those big ones. They'll be able to take care of it."

Even as they watched, one of the Atlas battleships turned its guns on first one of the others, and then the second.

"I'm pretty sure that that wasn't what that Ironwood prick had in mind as a strategy," said Melanie. "Come on, we have to get out of here."

A wounded Nevermore swept over them, screeching. It was heading for –

"Oh no," said the two of them together.

The huge creature crashed down – straight onto the Malachite Cafe. The whole building collapsed. With a final howl, the Nevermore began to evaporate.

Miltia stared, tears rolling down her face.

"Come on!" said Melanie, pulling her away. "We can cry later!"

They ran down the street – and straight into a pack of Beowolfs. A big pack.

"Damn, where are the Hunters!?" said Melanie. "They're supposed to protect us!"

"This way!" said Miltia. They ran, aiming to get away from the sounds of fighting. But the pack came after them.

And then another pack appeared in front of them.

"Down here!" said Melanie, starting for an alley.

"That's a dead end!" said Miltia. "We'll be cornered."

"I know, but at least they won't be able to get behind us. And ... no choice."

They ran down the alley and were confronted by a brick wall. They turned to fight, extending their blades.

"Fuck, there's a lot of them," muttered Miltia.

The Beowolfs starting coming at them, snarling. The two sisters leaped, their blades slicing into the creatures. The first wave went down, and but there more behind ... and more behind them.

For Melanie and Miltia it became a nightmare of slashing and stabbing, kicking and punching. They fought shoulder-to-shoulder, covering each other, maximising their opportunities. It was hardly the first time they had stood together, but they had never gone against so many enemies.

The pack began to grow smaller. A dozen left, then ten. Seven. Five.

 _Damn_ , thought Melanie suddenly. _Is it ... is it possible that we might get out of this?_

And then a Bewolf slammed its clawed hand into Miltia's chest. She shouted in pain. Melanie leaped and rammed her boot-blades into the creature's throat. It disintegrated. She swivelled and kicked out again. Two left. She took one down, but it left her out of position for the last one. It reached out for her –

And then it shrieked as one of Miltia's blades erupted through its chest.

Melanie caught Miltia as she slumped to the ground. Blood was pumping from her wound. There was nothing that could be done.

They clasped hands. "It would have been a great place," rasped Miltia.

"Best in Vale," said Melanie. "Best in Remnant."

Miltia smiled. Then Melanie was alone.

END


End file.
